


Storm Chasing

by deaddoh



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Storm Chasing, TV News
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-13 00:01:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20573108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deaddoh/pseuds/deaddoh
Summary: Storm chasing is no joke. Running the risk of death or serious injury.  Despite that, Jack willingly chases nature's monsters.





	1. Up in the Sky

_ “Jack do you have visual?” _

Jack, the storm chaser, glares as he watches the hurricane approach the coastline. He feels the rush of the wind and his own adeline pounding in his ears. The helicopters propellers are loud and it makes Jack feel jittery.

“I have visual Daniel.”

The hurricane is angry, pulling more and more warm water into itself, being greedy. Jack checks the wind speed and his breath is taken away, always forgetting how powerful hurricanes are. He knows the destruction they can cause and it gives his sudders, knowing he’s willingly tracking a beast gives him the best high.

_ “Good. Get the camera ready.” _

Jack nods, hefting the large film camera onto his seat and looks down into view. 

_ “We’re go in three.” _

Jack takes a deep breath.

_ “Two.” _

Jack exhales.

_ “One.” _

Jack taps into the feed and hears the anchor in his headset.

_ “And we have our storm chaser in the sky for us, right Hailey?” _

_ “That we do.”  _ The on-site anchor replies with surprising clarity.

_ “What I have behind me is a category 5 hurricane. It’s been ripping trees from their roots and pulling houses from their foundation. While the Saffir-Simpson hurricane scale doesn’t go above five, hurricane Faris here is verging out of the scale.” _

_ “What does that mean for nearby areas?”  _ The New York anchor asks.

_ “Total destruction.”  _ The on-site anchor replies dryly.  _ “If you’re still nearby by tomorrow morning you will lose power and run the risk of being hurt or killed by the flying debris.” _

_ “Cutting away Jack.”  _ Daniel’s voice cuts in as the New York anchor moves on.

<+>

Jack sighs as he drops down behind his desk in New York. He feels drained from the flight back from Florida, the rush the hurricane gave him long gone.

“Hey Jack.”

The storm chaser looks up and sees Signe, the Today Show’s lead makeup artist. She smiles and walks in, setting herself into the chair across from Jack. She fiddles with her zipper.

“What’s up? You look a little nervous.” Jack leans back in his chair and groans when his back cracks.

“I’m getting worried for you.” Signe sits up and her eyes look serious, eyebrows low and gaze trained on Jack.

“What for?” The storm chaser feels nervous, like a predator is watching him. He takes a deep breath and sighs, trying not to panic.

“You are still chasing storms. Even after your accident from Joaquin. Your getting too risky, just two days ago you were basically  _ inside _ Faris.” Signe’s voice is slowly rising.

Jack closes his eyes, focusing on his heartbeat and taps the desk in time. He sighs and he sets the slowly rising panic aside, trying to reason with himself. He knows Signe isn’t raising her voice on purpose, she’s worried. She cares and it’s ok. She’s not being malicious.

When Jack opens his eyes Signe is wiping hers. “I’m sorry.”

“No I get it. You’re worried.” 

The makeup artist nods and sniffles for a little longer.

“But please take care of yourself. I don’t want you to get sucked into one of those things.”

<+>

Jack rolls his neck as he walks from his office into the main building. He sees friends and coworkers alike gathered around someone Jack has never seen before. He simply dismisses it, knowing Signe will fill him in tomorrow. As he walks over to the exit, he remembers there’s a new intern. 

Before he can leave Signe is on him, grabbing his arm. “Come back here. You have to meet the new guy.” The makeup artist tugs on his arm before Jack gives in.

“What’s so good about him?” 

“He’s the new camera man.”

“And?”

Signe gives him a sly smile, “And he’s here for his meteorology internship.”

Jack feels his nerves ramp up as he is being pulled into the small group of people. He focuses on Signe’s hand wrapped around his wrist.

“Mark.” 

The new intern turns to Signe’s voice and smiles, “Yeah?”

The makeup artist pulls Jack up beside her and Mark tries to meet Jack’s eyes, but the storm chaser keeps his gaze up and to the right, watching the storm monitor instead.

“This is Jack. He’s our-” Signe falters.

“I’m one of the producers.” Jack sticks his hand out and Mark takes it, engulfing Jack’s hand in warmth.

“Nice to meet you Jack. I’m Mark, the new intern.”

Jack nods and pulls his hand back, itching to leave. But Signe is keeping him firmly planted with the hand at his belt loops. She smiles at Mark and looks to Jack.

“This is one helluva celebration for one measly intern. It might even give me a big head.”

Jack laughs, “We don’t get many new faces around here. It’s hard to be here.”

“Really? Why’s that?”

“It’s news. News is never easy.”


	2. Lies

_ “Rising, at five-thousand feet. Eyewall visible.” _

Jack’s heart is racing. He feels it pounding in his throat and in his tongue. The helicopter shivers and Jack’s heart rate leaps, knowing being this close to the eye is dangerous. He knows damn well what might happen to the helicopter, and damn well how much of a high he gets.

_ “McLoughlin! Why the hell are you at the eyewall?!” _

Daniel is furious, she used Jack’s last name. He knows he’s pushing Daniel’s buttons. He knows this can get him fired. He knows what will happen if he does.

_ “I’m here for Fischbach.” _

Daniel scoffs,  _ “Bullshit! Get your ass away from the eye!” _

_ “No! I’m here already, I might as well get something for Fischbach.” _

_ “Goddamnit McLoughlin!” _

The line cuts and Jack smiles to himself, knowing he won. Jack turns to the pilot and she stares at the eyewall with determination that would scare an Army general. He looks back to the storm and feels his brain short-circuit. The eye wall towers above the helicopter and Jack clenches his hands. Faris is topping at 188 Mph and has caused nearly seven feet of flooding.

Jack feels excitement crawl up his spine and he grins,  _ “You must be some crazy sonofabitch to be up here.”  _ The pilot says, slowly creeping towards the eye wall.

Jack nods,  _ “I sure am. It’s the greatest thrill.” _

_ “I bet.” _

The pilot has to stop, a sudden gust pushes the helicopter down and Jack can hear the ocean rushing under him. He looks down and sees the Gulf swirling and twisting. The water is dark as it curls around itself, the waves crest high and the whitecaps makes the ocean looks like it has suds in it.

_ “McLoughlin. Get your damn shots and get back here.” _

_ “Will do Lori.” _

Lori sighs,  _ “Daniel is fine.” _

Jack nods as the pilot pulls the helicopter up and slightly back from the eye wall. She goes in again and the helicopter shakes, causing a rattling. Jack sighs and looks ahead at the approaching wall of wind and water.

_ “Alright weatherboy, get what you need. We gotta go. The wind is gonna rip this bird apart.” _

Jack nods and readies his camera.

<+>

Jack shifts in his seat as Daniel talks about Faris, pointing at stats and gesturing to a few people at the table. He feels nervous, his palms clammy and uncomfortable sitting in his lap. He knows people are watching squirm and are probably wondering why. The storm chaser picks up his pen and doodles on his notes from earlier, drawing old diagrams he memorized for this purpose. He draws Katrina’s path, beginning at a blob of ink Bahamas, making its way by a dotted line to the Gulf of Mexico and finally to Louisiana.

“And don’t forget about next Wednesday’s meeting.” 

There’s sudden sounds of shuffling and life from nothing and it makes Jack’s head spin. He clenches his hands and closes his eyes, tuning out the sounds. He counts to the echo of his heart and taps his fingers to an unknown tune.

When Jack opens his eyes he sees Signe and Mark standing at the door, waiting for him with small smiles and kind eyes. The storm chaser stands and lets out a quiet huff at his back cracking. He makes his way to Mark and Signe and she starts to lightly bounce on her toes.

“Do you mind if Mark comes with us to our Friday Funday?” Signe asks, smiling with wide eyes.

Jack shakes his head and doesn’t meet Mark’s gaze. “‘Course not.”

“Perfect.” Signe turns to Mark and passes him a piece of paper from her back pocket.

“This where we’re meeting?” Mark asks after a brief moment.

Jack nods, “Yep. Be there at six-thirty.”

Mark nods back, pocketing the paper, “Got it.”

Mark keeps eye contact with Jack, his warm brown eye boring holes into Jack’s soul. Jack internally squirm, not used to such intensity. 

<+>

“How did shooting go?” Signe asks as she sips at her wine and watches the surrounding patrons of the club. She’s leaning back in her chair and has her arm propped up on the back of the chair, completely different than from her work self. 

“It went well. But Daniel lost her shit for a bit.” Jack sips his beer and leans back, admiring the lighting.

“Why? Weren’t you just out there to get info for Mark and more footage for the archive?” The makeup artist lets her chair slam back onto all its legs to let someone by and she frowns slightly at her empty wine glass.

“Yeah, but I was basically in the eye wall.” Jack chugs the rest of his beer and he frowns, realizing he spilled what he did. He knows it’s not good for him to be so risky, but it makes him feel alive.

“You what?!” Signe sits up straight and Jack flinches at the volume of her voice. 

“I-”

Mark sits back down at the table and Signe reels herself back in with a deep breath and a glare at Jack.

“What’d I miss?” Mark asks, sipping at his water. 

Jack feels Mark’s gaze on him and he swallows, fingers twisting a bottle cap. He knows he’s being irrational but can’t help but to feel like Mark is trying to bore holes into the side of his head. Instead, Jack looks out to the rest of the club. There are people everywhere, sitting at the bar counter, dancing, and sitting at tables just like him, Signe, and Mark. 

“Jack?” Signe snaps her fingers in the storm chasers face.

“Oh what?” Jack focuses back in to the conversation.

“Mark has a question.” 

Jack finally turns to Mark and the intern smiles, “I was wondering what you do as a producer.”

“Oh.”

Jack is regretting his coverup job. He has no idea what producers do other than just feeding the film in the control room and setting up dates and appointments.

“Well, I’m less of a producer and more of an assistant of sorts. I help out around the office  _ and _ control room.”

Jack drops the bottle cap he was fiddling and internally curses.

“Do you ever work with the meteorology department?”

“No.”


	3. Exposed

“What the hell am I gonna do?” Jack paces in his office as Signe looks on in concern.

“I lied about being a producer and now Mark’s askin’ me where all this stuff is and I have no fuckin’ idea!” Jack stops and frantically runs his hands through his hair. He tries to take deep breaths, trying to slow his heart and not have a panic attack.

“Shhh.” Signe stands and pulls Jack to her, wrapping her arms around him.

Jack sighs and closes his eyes, counting his heart beats and breathing in time with them. He recites Faris’ last checked stats and his mind begins to calm down. He inhales and exhales with Signe’s breaths now, counting the seconds between them.

“Feeling better?” Signe feels Jack nod and she lets go and steps back.

Jack nods and he sighs, “I still don’t know what to do,” he rubs his face and drops himself into his chair.

“Why not just tell him?” Signe sits opposite and Jack frowns at the suggestion. He unwillingly remembers how his family reacted to his career of choice and he grimaces, clearly remembering their frowns and disappointed looks. The disappointment lead to isolation and Jack frowns further.

“No. Remember how my family reacted?” Jack crosses his arms. He ignores the possibility of Mark actually liking that Jack is a storm chaser.

“But Mark isn’t your family.”

Jack shakes his head and Signe frowns, “Well ok then,” she stands and stretches. “I have to go. Talk soon.”

Signe simply walks out of Jack’s office and the storm chaser’s chest caves.

<+>

“Can I ask you something?” Mark asks Signe one day.

Jack perks up, now listening in to the conversation from his work station. He’s working on his next trip to Faris’ touch down location. As of three hours ago, Faris was still wreaking havoc in Florida and Georgia.

“Yeah what’s up?” Signe stops typing and spins her chair to face Mark.

“It’s about Jack. What does he do?” Mark stops taking notes and also spins to face Signe. He rolls his shoulder and grimaces, probably from something popping.

“He’s a producer.” Signe looks over to Jack and the storm chaser manages to duck his head in time behind his computer, he feels his face redden. He knows it’s wrong to eavesdrop but he can’t help it, Mark has accompanied him and Signe to multiple Friday Fundays and yet Jack knows nothing about the intern.

“But like, are you sure?” Mark twirls a pen between his fingers as he looks around the office with nervous eyes.

“Yeah. Why?” Signe checks her watch and Jack knows it’s the end of the work day. He knows Signe is tired, so she might spill.

“He just,” Mark shrugs and gives a lazy hand gesture, “doesn’t know where things are. Like, I know I shouldn’t judge him, but I just think it’s weird.”

Signe hums and sighs, “Well I don’t know what to tell you,” she stands and grabs her bag from under her desk. “Ask Jack yourself if you wanna know so bad.”

Signe leaves and Jack tries to shrink, seeing Mark turn to give his work station a brief glance. 

Mark writes notes for a little longer and Jack takes that time to relax and not look like an idiot with a red face. He debates bringing this interaction up with his therapist, Evelien.

“Jack?”

Jack jumps, surprised to hear Mark’s voice over his shoulder. He knows he looks really suspicious right now. He as Faris’ stats and damage calculations spread all over his desk. He even has diagrams and drawings of Faris’ and her path of calculated destruction. Jack practically hear Mark thinking.

“You’re not a producer, are you?” Mark’s voice isn’t accusatory, nothing near it, but it still hurts.

Jack nods and lets his head hang slightly, “No.”

Mark huffs quietly and sets himself onto Jack’s desk, careful not to wrinkle or ruin any papers. “Why lie?” Mark’s eyes are a little wide yet forgiving.

“I just-” Jack sighs, “It’s a personal reason.”

Mark nods and goes silent, reading over Jack’s calculations and diagrams.

“You’re not mad?” 

Jack doesn’t look up at Mark, keeping his eyes on his desk. He assumed Mark would be pissed.

“Why would I be? You lied for a personal reason.” Mark looks to Jack and sees the storm chaser won’t make eye contact.

“I could be lying. You don’t know me too well.” 

Jack finally looks back up at Mark and internally swears, once again feeling Mark’s gaze boring holes into his brain.

“You could be and that’d suck.”

“Why?”

“Because you seem like an ok person so far. Signe speaks highly of you.”

Jack nods.

**Author's Note:**

> i plan for this fic to get SERIOUS. i will obviously let you know at the beginning but, like be ready. i'm writing the PTSD and news stuff from reaseach and personal connections so... yeah
> 
> on a lighter note, i don't like how on Docs it looks like i have a lot of writing while on here it looks like there's nothin'. like it annoys me to NO end! (it also might be partially my laptop's fault, since it has a giant screen)


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